


let me hold you lightly

by changgus



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Gay Chicken, Hand Jobs, M/M, Marking, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24900811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/changgus/pseuds/changgus
Summary: “Y’wanna play something else?”When Shinwon looks down, Hongseok’s eyes are trained strictly at a spot in the center of his throat. He swallows and Hongseok tracks with the movement.“Like what?”
Relationships: Ko Shinwon/Yang Hongseok
Comments: 18
Kudos: 54
Collections: The DS9CU





	let me hold you lightly

**Author's Note:**

> alright guys i am back with more shinwon/hongseok because i love nothing more than being on brand at all times um this was supposed to just be like hahaha fun gay chicken fic but they are both bad at communicating emotions so it just kind of got away from me - anyway, enjoy!

“Can’t sleep?”

It’s dark in the dorm, the muted orange glow of the street lamps outside and the over-bright TV where Shinwon’s been playing video games for the past hour the only sources of light. They bleed over Shinwon’s face, where he’s huddled on the couch, socked feet tucked under his legs. He blinks twice before registering that Hongseok is talking to him.

“Yeah. You?”

Hongseok nods and it’s barely perceptible from where he’s standing at the edge of the living room, a slight shift in his silhouette. He crosses the distance to come curl up against Shinwon’s side. 

“You said you wouldn’t play this without me.” He whines, as Shinwon whacks another zombie over the head with a baseball bat. It makes a horrible sound, loud, and both of them freeze, eyes darting to the hall where everyone else lays asleep. There’s silence save for the din of the game, Shinwon’s character bouncing in place while his hands sit still on the control. After a moment they breathe and Hongseok slips both of his arms around one of Shinwon’s. “What did I miss?”

“Hm, nothing much.” Shinwon returns his attention to the screen, fingers moving across the joystick again. “Think I’m meeting my brother soon.”

“Hey, that’s not nothing!”

“Haven’t met him yet, you didn’t miss anything.”

Hongseok pouts and Shinwon can feel it through his sleeve, where Hongseok has his cheek pressed up tight, more than he sees it out of his peripheral. 

“It’s almost three.” Hongseok says then, shifting just a little against his side.

“Yeah.”

Every movement of his fingers makes another small sound, plastic against plastic clicking. Bits of dialogue float from the screen, gruff English he doesn’t quite understand, and Shinwon squints to follow the subtitles. His eyes are sore and bleary from a day of contacts and heavy makeup. Next to him Hongseok’s breathing evens out and for a minute Shinwon wonders if he’s fallen asleep. He doesn’t tear his eyes from the screen until Hongseok speaks.

“Y’wanna play something else?”

When Shinwon looks down, Hongseok’s eyes are trained strictly at a spot in the center of his throat. He swallows and Hongseok tracks with the movement.

“Like what?”

There’s a beat as Hongseok taps his index finger against his lips, thinking. “Ah, there’s one...I played it in high school. It’s fun.”

“What is it?”

“It’s called chicken.”

“Chicken?” Shinwon mimes taking a bite out of a chicken wing with one hand. 

“Yeah, it’s like, uh, it’s like tension escalator. You keep raising the stakes ‘til someone _chickens_ out.”

It sounds kind of stupid but Shinwon kind of loves stupid. 

“So, like, what do we do?”

Hongseok unwraps himself from Shinwon’s arm but stays close, moves one of his hands to Shinwon’s leg instead and then slowly up the inside of his thigh. His fingers trail the inseam of his jeans. He takes his time, deliberate. He gives a squeeze when he reaches the top.

“Your turn.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You think that’s better than the Last of Us?” Hongseok’s hand is warm where it presses through his jeans, but it’s not different from the way they touch each other everyday. There are no stakes here, nothing to lose, nothing to give away.

“Hey, I’m going easy to start. I said it’s your turn.”

Shinwon rolls his eyes but puts the controller down anyway. He shifts in his seat, not enough to jostle Hongseok’s hand but enough that his own can find purchase. He plants them against the hard line of Hongseok’s stomach and then curls his fingers and pushes up, under the edge of Hongseok’s sweatshirt. Shinwon thinks he’s giving something away, maybe. The fabric is light blue and soft. Hongseok’s breath hitches when the air makes contact.

“Okay, your turn.”

“That’s it?” Hongseok repeats back to him, smile cocky.

The thing about Hongseok is that he refuses to lose, ever, at anything. Even if it’s just a stupid game, even if it’s tilting forward and pressing his lips against the mole right in the center of Shinwon’s throat. It’s only for a second but when he pulls back his smile is even wider, goofy. He nods his head to indicate he’s done. 

His smile is so shit-eating Shinwon wants to hit him, wants to kiss it right off his stupid fucking mouth. Instead, he makes his next move. Without much hesitation, he shoves his hands upwards, over the swell of Hongseok’s chest.

“Take this off.” He says, firm, and Hongseok does.

Even here still feels in the realm of safe, one too many nights kneading his knuckles into Hongseok’s sore muscles after he’s pushed himself too far. Either not talking or just making jokes to ease the tension, saying things they don’t mean. They’re on the edge of something but not quite crossing it. 

Shinwon wonders at what point it stops being a game and starts being real, but it doesn’t really matter because he’s just as determined as Hongseok is and while he can maybe make peace with losing, he will never lose to Yang Hongseok.

Hongseok isn’t smiling anymore as Shinwon brushes his thumbs over his nipples. He pinches the left one between his thumb and index finger and pulls. 

“Okay, you go.”

“We’re uneven now.” Hongseok says, brows furrowed like he’s really thinking about his next move. He moves his hand and Shinwon is expecting it to hit the edge of his shirt, to push up like he had done, but instead Hongseok reaches for the button of his jeans.

“Really?”

“Are you tapping?” He’s hesitating, waiting for permission.

“Obviously not.” Shinwon replies, maybe too fast, lifting up just enough to help Hongseok tug his pants down over his thighs. There’s some awkward shuffling as Hongseok tries to yank them off the rest of the way, getting stuck on Shinwon’s socks before giving.

When Hongseok settles back into the couch, clearly once again pleased with himself, Shinwon decides to do something stupid. He scoots forward until he can swing his thigh to plant himself in Hongseok’s lap. The flannel of his pajama pants scratches the insides of Shinwon’s thighs. He realizes with the way that they are aligned that this is a dangerous game, but Shinwon is playing to win so he leans in and scrapes his nose along the line of Hongseok’s jaw.

Hongseok’s lips part around a breath, right next to Shinwon’s ear and he shivers. Maybe Shinwon isn’t the only one giving something away. He presses his mouth, wet and open, to the crook of Hongseok’s neck. 

“Wait, not where anyone can see.”

“I’m not stupid.” Shinwon mumbles against Hongseok’s skin but his cheeks burn anyway. He tugs on the waistband of Hongseok’s pants and lets it snap back against his hip. “Take these off then.”

“This is an awfully long turn.” Hongseok shifts his weight underneath Shinwon, settles his hands on the tops of his thighs.

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Do _you_?”

“Fine. Your turn.” Shinwon can feel each and every point where they connect like Hongseok is a map he can’t help but follow. The fingers splayed on his thighs, the sturdiness of his legs beneath him, all adding up to something.

Hongseok grabs him by the chin with one hand and presses their mouths together. He is gentle in a way that makes Shinwon’s chest hurt. It’s just a game, it is just another competition between them.

Earlier that day, or yesterday now he supposes, if it matters, they’d been sitting next to each other on the practice room floor. Shinwon sipping his convenience store iced coffee, Hongseok with his from some small cafe he’d been talking about trying for weeks. Hongseok had said something stupid and Shinwon repeated it in a high pitched voice, mocking, so Hongseok shoved a piece of ice down the back of his shirt and they’d pushed against each other, out of breath with laughter, until Changgu came and broke them up.

Now, Hongseok is insistent against him, licking into his mouth. His fingers cling to the edge of Shinwon’s boxer briefs. When he pulls back his eyes are blown, dark.

“Just wanted to shut you up.” Hongseok is trying to say it as a joke but Shinwon can see his own spit reflected on his lips and his skin buzzes.

“Okay, well, it’s my turn now. Take ‘em off.”

“You’re in my lap, dumbass.”

Instead of just climbing off, Shinwon slides down onto his knees on the floor and shoves Hongseok’s legs apart with his hands. Hongseok laughs and then pulls his pajama pants down over his hips, let’s Shinwon pull them the rest of the way.

“We’re uneven again.” Hongseok says, but this time the bravado is gone. He runs his tongue nervously over his lips and Shinwon feels like he has the upper hand again.

He leans forward and presses his lips against Hongseok’s inner thigh, tentatively at first, giving him room to tap out. When he doesn’t, Shinwon grazes the soft skin with his teeth instead. He works at the same spot until he can see the bruise blooming. Above his head he’s vaguely aware of the way Hongseok’s breathing has gone uneven, the way his hands twitch like he wants to reach out and touch.

Shinwon drags his lips up, getting dangerously close to where Hongseok’s boxer briefs end. Out of his peripheral he can see the dumb Cookie Monster appliqué above Hongseok’s left thigh. He nips at the skin here too, then soothes it with his tongue.

Possessiveness blooms deep behind his ribcage, sparking like fire and burning up his skin. He wonders if anyone else has ever done this, felt Hongseok’s thighs shake under their lips. He hopes he’s the first. Each mark on the smooth expanse of skin another secret between just him and Hongseok, something only for them to know, only for Shinwon to do.

Hongseok buries his fingers in Shinwon’s hair and tugs.

“Is it my turn yet?”

Shinwon laughs against his thigh. “Impatient?”

“No, I’m just thinking of what I want when I win.”

“In your fucking dreams, hyung.” He lets Hongseok pull him back up anyway, lets Hongseok maneuver him onto his back on the couch so that his head is bracketed between Hongseok’s arms like a cage. 

There’s a moment where Hongseok just hovers above him, eyes scanning over his face, like he’s searching for something Shinwon can’t give him. Shinwon wants to say something, make some sort of joke because that’s how he knows how to deal, but it gets caught in his throat. 

Once he seems to have made up his mind, he crushes their lips back together. His mouth is warm and pliant and when he pulls on Shinwon’s lower lip with his teeth it drags out a sound long and low from the back of Shinwon’s throat. Which is mortifying, on just about every level, but he can also feel that Hongseok is just as into it when he shifts in his lap. Hongseok huffs out a laugh anyway but then doubles down, kissing him until his lips feel swollen.

Hongseok rocks his hips down where he’s pressed up tight in between Shinwon’s legs and Shinwon really, really has to remind himself that this is a game. Part of him, the part that the others always make fun of for being a goddamn coward, needs this to be a game.

“You should take this off.” Hongseok breathes against his mouth, reaching down to tug at his hair-dye stained t-shirt.

“Who’s taking a long turn now?” 

Hongseok kisses him long and slow. Shinwon can feel each rapid pulse beat of his heart when he presses his hand to his neck.

“Okay, your turn.” He pecks Shinwon one last time like punctuation and sits up, leaning back, the shift in pressure almost hurts. It’s enough for Shinwon to see through the cloud and into the reality which is that Hongseok is on top of him, wearing almost nothing, the shape of Shinwon’s own mouth imprinted into his bare thighs. And Shinwon wants, so desperately, for something he cannot name, will not name.

Shinwon’s hands are slow, careful. He’s afraid they might shake if they’re anything else. He runs his hands down Hongseok’s sides and thinks of all the things they are not saying, the spaces between the words.

“Hello? Are you gonna go?” Hongseok snaps his fingers in Shinwon’s face, he’s smiling. Shinwon tries to calculate the distance between what he wants and what he’s allowed to take. 

If this is just a game, they can wake up tomorrow and Hongseok can stick ice down his shirt and Shinwon can make fun of the things he says and they can wrestle in the practice room and Hongseok can tell everyone he knows Shinwon best and only the two of them will know what he’s really saying. If, and this is what scares him, this is not a game, they can wake up tomorrow in the same bed and Hongseok can laugh against his throat and they can mark each other where no one else can see and they can wrestle in the practice room and Hongseok can tell everyone he knows Shinwon best and only the two of them will know what he’s really saying.

“You can just give up, y’know.” Shinwon says, his fingers tuck into Hongseok’s waistband.

“Yeah? Why would I do that?” Hongseok shifts on top of him and Shinwon groans.

“It’s just going to be _so_ embarrassing when you lose.” Shinwon slides his hands past the waistband, pushing the fabric down as he cups Hongseok’s ass. “You might as well do it on your own terms.”

Hongseok shifts up onto his knees, lets Shinwon keep pushing until the fabric just gives. This is a new line to cross. “You wish.”

They really are uneven now, as Hongseok kicks his boxers behind him. Shinwon somehow is the one feeling embarrassed even though he’s the one still clothed. For the first time he becomes conscious of the fact that they are very much just in their living room, that Hwitaek or Hyunggu could wake up for a glass of water and it would all be over. It’s hard to care when Hongseok leans back down, close enough for their lips to touch, and says “My turn?”

Shinwon just nods dumbly. His little pea brain is still trying to process the part where Hongseok, _Hongseok_ , is naked and on top of him. Even though this was at least fifty percent his doing. He’d felt bold enough in the moment but now he feels like he’s spinning just a little off the rails.

“You need to catch up.” Hongseok says as he shoves his hands under Shinwon’s shirt. It’s old now, soft from too many times in the wash, blotches of orange hair dye splattered and faded. It moves too easily in Hongseok’s hands. 

Once he gets it over Shinwon’s head he shuffles down so he is properly in between Shinwon’s legs and the proximity of Hongseok’s mouth to his dick makes his heart feel like it is going to fall out of his ass. Shinwon can’t even bring himself to say anything about turn length or fairness, though surely this breaks some sort of gay chicken rule, when Hongseok bites at the flesh just above his waistband. 

Hongseok breathes against the tender skin and it is through sheer force of will alone that Shinwon does not buck his hips up desperately into Hongseok’s face. Hongseok does it again, and again, planting the shape of his mouth in a line, teeth, then tongue, then lips.

“Okay, I’m done.” Hongseok smiles at him from between his fucking legs, because they’re just playing, they’re just having fun.

“You’re done?”

“Yeah, like, your turn.” He gestures with his hand like Shinwon can just do whatever. Like he’s letting Shinwon pick where they go for lunch, which he would never do.

“That’s it?” Shinwon’s voice comes out a little funny, a little strained. He’s not sure exactly what he’s asking for. He knows how the game works, or at least he thought he did at some point. The longer they’ve played the more the point’s been lost on him.

“Shinwon-ah,” Hongseok tsks. “Are you giving up your turn?”

“No,” He licks his lips, tries to think. “It’s just - is that all you wanted to do?”

Hongseok blinks at him. Once, twice. “You...want me to keep going?”

Shinwon wonders if saying yes is forfeiting and also if he’s allowed to ask. But he also feels like it’s unfair to have to say anything when Hongseok’s face is _right there_ and he can very much tell that, yes, Shinwon wants him to keep going.

“Well, like,” Shinwon licks his lips again, nervous. “You take two turns. I take two turns. Maybe.”

It sounds just as desperate hanging in the air between them as it did in Shinwon’s head but fuck it, fuck the rules.

“Uh huh.” Hongseok laughs and ghosts his mouth over where Shinwon is straining in his boxers. “Is this what you want?”

And he does, he does want, more than anything. He wants to fuck into Hongseok’s mouth, he wants to watch the way his lips move around him, swallowing him down. He has _been_ wanting, long before Hongseok ever suggested this stupid game, before he ever put his hand on his thigh. He’s not sure exactly when the flip switched in his brain from Hongseok being one of his best friends to wanting to choke on his dick too but it doesn’t even matter. Especially not now when they’re so close, so close to every guilty jack off fantasy he’s had for the past year.

“Fuck.” is all he can manage to get out, and frankly even that is impressive, because Hongseok is licking a stripe up the hard line of his cock and his hips twitch in response. 

“Okay, I’ll take another turn.” Hongseok hooks his fingers into Shinwon’s waistband and then looks up at him, eyes dark and heavy. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want.” He says it too quickly but doesn’t even have the time to be embarrassed. Hongseok yanks down his boxers and takes Shinwon in hand, rubbing his thumb over the tip. His grip is loose at first, the drag slow and gentle.

It feels again like Hongseok is trying to make his mind up about something. Like he knows that the further they go the less they can pretend nothing has happened, or that they didn’t mean it.

He takes Shinwon into his mouth and it is almost immediately obvious that he has never done this before, but neither has Shinwon and the pressure is scalding, feels better than his own hand ever could. Hongseok starts to find a rhythm and Shinwon digs his fingers into his hair, pulls without thinking. The tug elicits a moan deep in Hongseok’s throat and they both freeze.

He pulls off with a sound that is just a little obscene. “Should we-?”

“Your room. It’s closer.”

Picking up their clothes and shoving Hongseok in the direction of his room feels a lot like fleeing a crime scene, but if they don’t finish this now he might die. Or actually chicken out. Either way he doesn’t need anybody else to hear about it. He’s sweating when Hongseok shoves him down onto his bed and gets down on his knees to take him back into his mouth.

This time Shinwon tugs on his hair on purpose, tries to capture the sound Hongseok makes around his cock in his mind forever. It’s high and whiny, which Shinwon should’ve expected but it makes his stomach tighten. Hongseok’s lips are so full and warm and wet, slick with his own spit as Shinwon bucks his hips up into his open mouth. 

Shinwon is making sounds of his own too, tiny gasps that he tries desperately to swallow. He’s never been good at keeping quiet.

“Fuck, hyung, I-” He’s close, his whole body feels too warm, too big.

Hongseok doesn’t stop, just keeps going until he’s swallowing him down, only pulling off when Shinwon is spent, thighs shaking. He sits there, breath caught in his throat, when Hongseok leans up halfway just to kiss him.

He kind of thinks it's gross but he mainly thinks that he wants to keep feeling this for as long as Hongseok will let him. 

Hongseok pushes him back with a gentle hand to the shoulder until his back hits the unmade sheets so he can climb over him again, straddling one of his thighs and grinding down. Shinwon reaches down to wrap his hand around Hongseok’s cock instead and with just a few pumps, Hongseok comes onto his hip.

He rolls off to the side so they are both on their backs, chests rising and falling out of sync. Shinwon wants to say something, wants to know if they’re okay, if he is just overthinking everything like he does. As if Hongseok can read his mind, he turns over and curls against Shinwon’s side.

Hongseok presses his nose into Shinwon’s neck and laughs. “I think I won.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/gayjinho) // [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/gayjinho)


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